Fuc Zombies

NOTE: Hey guys, so I'm currently training in the U.S Army and I'm at a stage where I can now have my laptop! So, after I go to classes and get smoked for God knows what, I like to catch up on some erotica. This is the first story I've completed since I left for training and I'm curious if you'd be interested in reading more about this strange tale. Please let me know in the comments if this has potential to grow because this is a risky story to tell and getting my feet back in the water with writing is a little scary. I appreciate all criticism, from "I loved it!" to "I hated it!" Just be polite about it- that's all I ask. Thank you and take care!

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Everybody has a role in society. Each role serves a purpose, no matter how big or small, to keep our lives going on a steady schedule. One knot interfering with that schedule can cause a total breakdown if not treated right away.

In my world, that knot isn't as simple as somebody slacking from their job, but something more like: a fucking zombie apocalypse.

A virus broke out in the west coast and spread all across the United States, destroying whatever form of human decency we have built up since the beginning of mankind. Our news stations have been down ever since, and to everybody's horror, social media outlets weren't updating either. So, we couldn't be up to date on how other countries have dealt with this virus. Just the Americans, and knowing our reputation with how we handle global issues, we knew right away that we were fucked.

The population has dwindled to a noticeable degree. Most of the vulnerable have already perished; all that's left are the men and women who were lucky enough to survive. Yet, each day is a game of Russian Roulette: any moment it may just be your turn to die, and there's no way to control that.

But unlike the zombies that we've grown up watching in the media where they crave the taste of brains, these monsters desire a different form of satisfaction...

"I'll meet up with you inside, just go!"

My survival team was waiting for me to join them in an abandoned shopping mall we discovered one early morning. We were sweaty and exhausted after walking miles on a deserted highway before finding this sanctuary, but once we reached the entrance, we heard the sound of zombies approaching us.

Knowing that I was the only one who could take them on, I shooed everyone away.

"Go! Wait inside!"

Most of the team did as they were told, and only one stayed behind- the one I knew wouldn't listen to me. My Aunt Mariah, one of my only surviving family members, has stuck around with me on this terrible adventure. She was always the moral compass of the family; I remember wishing that she were my real mother instead of the one I was "blessed" with for 25 years. But since this disaster fell upon us, my aunt has been more than smothering.

"You don't need to do this, Nyla," she frowned, "I can't stand the thought of you taking them on."

"Then look away," I said, "It'll only hurt you more."

"I can't this time," she grabbed my wrist and lifted it up for me to see at eye-level, "Look at this! Tell me you can see this and think it's okay."

Yanking my arm out of her grasp, I turned away from her.

"Unless you wanna help me fight them, I suggest you leave."

Knowing that arguing more about this would be pointless, my Aunt Mariah reluctantly ran inside with the others. There were three zombies creeping closer to me, and if I didn't turn to greet them soon I would be done for- but I wasn't afraid.

You see, in this beautiful world I was born in, these zombies don't crave flesh. I knew that when the trio were circling me with their slack jaws and wandering hands.

"Let's see...if I can start with that one in the center, then the ones on either end will become more desperate. Can I really do three at a time? I never had more than one before," I took a breath, "...I'll make it work."

These zombies seek no pleasure in eating- at least not in the way you would expect. I had to offer them what they really wanted and fast. So, I grabbed at the hem of my shirt and yanked it off my body, exposing my bra, only to then remove that seconds later, leaving me bare and vulnerable.

That was more than enough to stimulate them.

The zombie in the center was very bold. He was a handsome guy in his past life: a Hispanic looking male, thin and toned, short black hair and light scruff. He looked like someone who could be on the cover of a magazine, without the whole un-alive thing. He was new to being un-alive too, I can tell because his skin wasn't peeling or crackling yet like his buddies who looked ready to fall apart at the slightest touch.

I called zombie #1: Greg.

Greg shoved me to the ground, lifted up my legs and pushed them above my head, exposing my crotch. Thank God I took gymnastics or else this position would've been a bitch to sit through.

He kept his hands pressed up on the back of my thighs while he sniffed and licked at my crotch. He could smell my pheromones through the fabric. When he would lick me, it felt like a cat's tongue: sharp and aggressive. I never had one of them tend to me like this, usually they'd already be balls deep. But this one was different, and it probably had to do with the fact that I didn't remove my leggings yet. But he was so desperate, he didn't give me time to accommodate, so this is his reward for being so impatient.

"Hey! Easy down there, yeah?" Even though the undead didn't have a brain for communication, I still took joy out of speaking with them. Greg's tongue was diving deeper inside of me, even with the leggings in the way. Because my pants were so thin, he could still taste me through them, and so he made do with what he had and pushed a piece of my leggings inside of my already wet pussy- panties included. It was the worst bootleg pap smear I could imagine. It was uncomfortable as fuck, but you can't expect these monsters to think properly.

I squirmed underneath Greg, gritting my teeth as he shoved my clothes deeper into my pussy. "That's not where it goes, fuck!" I yelled. His hands were unbelievably strong that even if I tried to kick him off me, it wouldn't work. Now, this folded chair position I was in was starting to hurt the more I struggled.

As if sensing my pain, Greg actually stopped. His tongue was still dangling past his jaw, slithering, but his eyes moved from my crotch to somewhere more...inviting. He released me from my position and scooted up towards my head.

Makes sense, when you can't find an opening in one hole you search for another. I propped myself up on my elbows and licked my lips. "Come here, big boy..."

He was surprisingly careful with how his cock entered my mouth, maybe it was an act of caution to ensure that what he was entering was a valid fuck hole; one that can take him all in and bring him to true satisfaction. He moaned softly and moved his hips closer so only his testicles were dangling out.

I could smell all of the lovers he had before me hit my nostrils. The pungent smell of semen, iron blood, all the grime and shit coated on that thing, yet I would bet a million dollars that I would be his only surviving lover.

Whatever chemical was spreading in this worldwide virus carried something that enhanced people's appendages to an unimaginable degree. These zombies were undead for sure, but they were also cursed to be consistently horny for cock and pussy.

The males' balls were heavy with fresh cum, ready to feed any orifice they spotted. When approached by one of these zombies, their dicks are high and ready to penetrate whatever they see and they won't stop until they are completely drained. The females are considered less deadly, but if caught by one of them, you would be trapped in their unbearably tight grip from their pussies. I've seen it myself.

Men have had their dicks rode till they literally broke off inside of the cunts of these females. I saw their faces through it all: from fear, to immense pleasure, returning to fear and eventually shock as they start to bleed out inside the monster and are greeted with sweet death. To some, that's a fine way to go. Better than running away all the time.

There's a very rare minority who can survive these brutal fucks, but it's been almost a week since we've lived in this new world and I've gone through enough of these encounters to tell you that engorged zombie cocks aren't enough to kill me.

"Mmmh...," I moaned, feeling my jaw nearly unhinge in order to take in Greg's thick cock. God, the fucker was big, I had to breathe carefully through my nose so I wouldn't choke.

"In...out...in, and OH FUCK! He hit the back of my throat!" It was almost enough to make me puke. Even so, Greg enjoyed my skills, the warmth of my tongue licking his underside and how every time I swallowed the tip of his leaking head would feel extra pressure. We were like this for a good ten seconds before I felt my bottom half being compromised.

The final two male zombies were tugging away at my leggings, finally putting the puzzle pieces together that maybe this is the reason their buddy couldn't fuck me right away. Like bossy little children, I heard them growling at one another once my leggings were pooled around my ankles. I could sense they were fighting over who would take me first.

The bigger of the two, a zombie who I imagined was an overweight truck driver in his living days, beat out the other and devoured me.

His fat cock lined up with my hole and shoved straight inside. He stretched me out so widely, I almost chewed down on the first zombie's dick from the pain. I felt my panties still secure around my hips, but they were easy to push aside for the zombie that claimed my hole. His name was: Marco.

"Good, only one more..."

I engrossed myself in the fucking so completely that I ignored the scratches developing on my back from being on the cement floor, and the indents on my elbows from propping myself up atop little sharp pebbles. I ignored all the suffering I had to go through to take care of these monsters, but I was used to it...very much so.

An advantage of being a survivor of this kind of sex is that when you're all done, the zombies are too tired to continue on for an average of about five minutes. So, in that limited span of time, I usually find the best weapon to finish them off. That day, it was a shovel abandoned near the shopping mall. I took notice of it as my team and I approached the abandoned mall. Things were scattered everywhere, clearly from a bunch of people's vain attempt to gather tools for survival, or some random shit to find comfort in. Seriously, I was fucking these zombies surrounded by the most miscellaneous shit: baby dolls, headphones, who the hell needs a copy of Shrek 2 in an apocalypse?

Anyway, the moral of the story is: I chopped off all of their heads. I started with the third zombie: Kyle, named after my first boyfriend, and just like that boyfriend, Kyle sucked.

When Greg unleashed his load in me, Kyle could barely get in a few strokes before cumming down my throat. He was a desperate little fucker in his past life for sure. Kyle went against all the other zombie lovers I had so far in that his passion for sex wasn't nearly enough. Kyle had taught me that some zombies aren't as intense as others- even if they tried.

Next, I went for Marco who filled me to the brim with his seed. I'll never forget the noise he made when he came, it was like a dying chicken. I laughed so much, a little of his cum spilled from my pussy and down my crack. Last was Greg, the simpleton who didn't know how to take off leggings. I got a good look at that pretty face one more time before dismembering it from his body. If you took away the dark purple hue that he had from the virus, he could've passed as a living human being.

Something else to note: when these fuck zombies die, they go flaccid.

"I know it's not much, but take this and clean yourself, honey," Aunt Mariah greeted me at the entrance with a large beach towel she grabbed from a store. She cradled me in it so the rest of the group wouldn't see my cum stained body. She then guided me to a bathroom where she had staged water bottles, body wash, and wet wipes- all for free at the Bed, Bath, & Beyond.

"I'll be outside the stall if you need me"

"I won't need you"

"You just never know"

What a kind woman, still trying to keep some sort of normalcy in a situation like this. I was grateful, but seeing her reminded me of my connection to the past. What my life was before all of this and how it became. I remember Aunt Mariah still being a teenager when she'd bathed me, clothed me, love me more than her sister had ever done. Now, she has my back through what may be the most thick-and-thin of situations you could ever live through.

I looked down at my left wrist, the one Aunt Mariah had grabbed before leaving me. The veins were getting darker, more purple...like those zombies out there. All the veins in their bodies stood out from their skin, pulsating with the infection that erased who they used to be. Their genitals also showed those purple veins, but mine don't- yet.

There's an advantage of surviving these fucks, but also a consequence for staying alive. I debated how much time I had left before I'd transform into one of those things, but only for a second. I wiped my eyes and continued cleaning the filth away.

If I went on thinking any longer, then I don't think I would've left that stall.